You Sure Are Looking Good
by illocust
Summary: Shiro just wants to take some baked goods to his, totally not a crush, friend in the woods, but something is howling in the forest tonight.
1. Chapter 1

Shiro shifts the basket of baked goods to his other hand, shaking out his tired arm. When he'd set off earlier this evening, with a batch of fresh baked cookies from Mrs. Black's bakery and other goodies for his under the weather friend. He'd been under the impression that Keith lived much closer to the village. The hunter came in to sell his skins and meat at least once a week if not more. Had he been really hauling those heavy kills this far the entire time?

No wonder he'd been so eager to leave earlier today, as Shiro was quickly learning, any later and the sun would have been well below the horizon before he got home. He'd have to talk to Keith. If he was feeling ill, he couldn't push himself like this. Even if Shiro would miss seeing him on his regular day…That wasn't why Keith had come was it, because he didn't want to miss their meet up on the edge of town? No, no that was silly. They were friends, but there was no way Keith looked forward to his weekly walk as much as the guard did.

A chill wind blows through the tree, as the last inkling of the sun's warmth disappears. Shiro pulls the red cloak that denotes him as a member of the lord's military tighter around himself, and sends up a quite thanks for the light of the full moon rendering the well trodden path still visible. Any other night, and he would be forced to wait until morning, or risk being lost in the woods till the forest imps got him. Not that he believed in such things. That was just superstitions of the locals. Made up reasons to justify their dislike of those who made their living out here, like his hunter.

A howl echoes through the night, bouncing off the trees making it impossible to tell how close or far. Shiro clasps the hilt of his sword in his unnatural metal hand, a mage's gift to make up for what he lost in service to his lord. Forest imps were wives tales, but wolves were very very real. In the harshest of winters they would drag even a grown man away to their den to satisfy their hunger. To think Keith lived out here with such creatures. Maybe Shiro needed to make a habit of this journey. It was his duty to guard land and residents of the his lord after all, and no matter what others said, that included Keith.

Shiro increases his pace. Listening closely to the snaps and rustles of the night. Trying to pick out the difference between a branch shifted by the wind and one moved by something far more dangerous. Even with the moon's light there are shadows everywhere, playing tricks on his eyes. He could swear something moves in his peripherals, but turning there is nothing there. Don't stop. Keep moving Takashi. Keith's home can't be much further.

Returning his eyes to the path, Shiro hurries forward. The dirt path remains clear, but there is nothing but trees, bushes, and more trees. No wait, up ahead, is that? It is. Through the trees, just barely he can make out the boxy outline of a man made home. He's made it, at last. He can knock on the door, surprise Keith, then spend the night in the safety of his four walls.

Something cracks beside him, Shiro whirls, and is met with two golden glowing eyes.

...

Keith slams the door shut to his shack. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I think I'm coming down with something. What kind of excuse was that? The kind of stupid excuse he has to make, when he lets his desire to see the gorgeous village guard over ride his common sense, is what. Keith throws his purse onto his bed, and begin stripping out of his clothes. His skin already feels tight with the approach of dusk.

So stupid, it doesn't matter if Shiro wears his armor like he was born for it, or if he's the only person in that damn village that treats him kindly. He knows better than to go during this time. He'd had enough trouble making it home in time, when he wasn't slowing his walk to spend just a little more time alone with Shiro. Even if the smile that lit up his face when Keith walked out of the forest was enough to make Keith's heart stop.

Disrobed, Keith storms back outside. Chill air of approaching night nipping at his skin. Keith breathes deep, and tries to calm himself down. The last thing he wants is to maul something in his front yard because he's stressed again. The mess is a pain to clean up. In out, he made it in time. His stupid decision didn't have any consequences this time.

The last rays of sunlight dip below the horizon and Keith's body seizes as that full moon takes hold. It's painful but not. His limbs shake and stretch out of proportion. His ears shift and mold to something new. His teeth and nails narrow down to sharp points, but instead of an unnatural change racking him with agony. It's like he's finally being released to assume his true form. Muscle crying out in relief as they take the shape they were meant to be. Hair sprouts, and then the moon is done. No more is the unloved, strange hunter, instead is the creature of nightmares. A man touched by the wolf, but so clearly neither.

Keith stretches, then leans back on the new bends of his hind legs and howls. The night has begun, and it is time for him to play.

...

The wolf is freedom. To run, to hunt, to play. Freedom to do as he wills without the niggling doubts and questions his human mind likes to pester him with. The wolf does what it wants because it can and there is nothing more to it. Which is why when that familiar scent teases his nose, Keith runs towards the source instead of away. Something delicious has entered his woods.

Keith finds him on the path. Steps clumsy and loud in a way no forest animal could be. Red cloak brilliant in the moonlight. Keith's mouth salivates, a hunger very different from that raised by the meat of a meal growing in his stomach. The tinge of fear all humans feel at being caught in his woods on this night, does nothing to put it off. He wants and what the wolf wants the wolf gets.

His treat is already carrying himself to Keith's den, so he bides his time. Stalks behind the skittish guard, and maybe breaks a few twigs on purpose just to watch him jump. Keeps him from getting bored.

When his den is finally in sight, Keith moves. Darts around the guard onto the path. Shiro's pretty grey eyes widen comically when his head snaps around to sees Keith, joints locking just a second in shock. Keith doesn't give him a chance to recover.

Keith lunges forward taking the man off his feet, basket bouncing away as he flails. Keith's hands are stiff and clawed in this form, but with surprise and his strength its more than enough to wrench the unsheathed blade away from his prey and cast it away. He'd be hard pressed to be killed by the weapon, but bleeding wounds would ruin his fun.

Keith's stronger like this. A hand on Shiro's broad chest to hold him down. Keith leans forward, and Shiro's struggles come to an abrupt halt as recognition sparks behind his eyes. Good, Keith lets his lips split around too many teeth in a dangerous smile, "Hello, beautiful. Is this for me?"

...

It, it can't be…they don't exist. Stories, like the imps, but that face. Shiro's survival instincts have temporarily left him. Because instead reaching forward to plunge a thumb into an eye or any one of a dozen dangerous painful things he could do to get out from under the monstrous teethed thing, he's reach shaking fingers forward to touch the familiar curve of his friend's cheek hidden behind soft fur.

A flash and teeth are around his fingers bearing down and…holding them? A play nip, not even breaking the skin, "Keith?" Shiro says in a voice much higher than he'd like to admit.

Glowing golden eyes crinkle, then his fingers are being let go. Just in time for the first snap of a strap giving way to Keith's claws, "Let's play," Keith says, shifting against him. Almost…oh, oh!

...

The sweet smell of arousal fills the air at the same time Shiro cheeks flush. The silly human has finally caught on. Now to get this armor off. There are far to many things holding it on. Every strap Keith cuts seems to lead to two more. As the last one give and the undershirt beneath it shreds like paper under his claws, the prize below is worth the effort.

Shiro's naked chest is better than his fantasies. Long scars stretched over hard muscle. He wants to lick it, so he does. Long tongue running up the most prominent bisecting scar. Shiro squawks and his hands fly to Keith's waist, but he doesn't try to push him off. The bulge against Keith's ass more than gives him away. Keith grinds back and revels in the gasp of his captured prey.

He wants to scent the man, he wants to drag him inside his den to never escape, but most of all right now, he wants to tear those pants off and have his way with him.

The scent of blood hits the air as Keith's claws rake down the outside of Shiro's thighs, tearing and pulling off his pants in equal measure, but it's only spice to him. Something to drive him higher, and Shiro doesn't seem to mind, hips bucking up to meet his own once he's freed.

There are no hands between them. His hands aren't meant for sensitive flesh and Shiro's are fisted into his fur, but he wants, so he takes. Roughly grinding their dicks together for blessed friction. Panting open mouthed, dipping his head down to run the sharp points of his teeth against Shiro's neck and chin. Only curbing the urge to bite there for desire not to have the man bleed out.

Keith ruts hard and Shiro moans under him. Louder and louder, until his body arches, crying Keith name, and Keith begins to rut through the wet spill of his seed. The smell, the feel of the body go lax under him, the dazed bliss in those beautiful grey eyes. Keith comes, blood sparks across his tongue as he bites down. Pleasure rolls across him in waves, then he to is collapsing.

Keith catches his breath quickly. Then nuzzles against his beautiful guard, cleaning the wound his bite has left. Shiro does not yet have the advantage of the moon to revitalize him. Eventually, Shiro does shift though, and Keith pushes himself up.

The blush staining Shiro's cheeks stands out all the more prominently. Mmmm, he has no right to be so cute.

Now Keith has many options for explaining things, awkwardly going through what they've done and its implications, or he could skip all that and have some more fun.

"Keith!" Shiro shouts, as Keith throws him over his shoulder, "What are you doing?!"

Keith just squeezes one of Shiro's perfectly muscled ass cheeks, as he starts heading to his den with his prize. The night is still young, and there is much more ravishing he wants to do.


	2. Chapter 2

Normally the morning after a full moon is spent picking whatever he caught last night out from between his teeth and washing bloodstained blankets in the creek. The wolf just never seems to care about cleaning up before he crashes in Keith's nice clean sheets for the night. Even worse, sometimes the wolf decides to bring a snack to bed with him. Nothing tops bad mornings, as waking up to a disembodied rabbit head staring at you…at least that's what he used to think. The thing wrapped beneath his blanket this morning makes him wish for something as tame as a dead animal.

Head pillowed peacefully on Keith's bicep is one Takashi Shirogane, beloved village guard and latest victim of the wolf. Shiro's eyes are shut, chest slowly rising and falling in a deep sleep, but the evidence of what Keith has done stands out plainly in the morning sun. Flaky dry release clinging to bare muscles, a scabbed over bite already hot and inflamed with the wolf's infection. Keith's fucked up, and he doesn't know how to fix it.

By the moon how could he have? Shiro was nice to him. Shiro smiles when he comes into town. Shiro was…oh gods, Shiro was coming to check in on him last night, and this, this is how he repays him. Keith's breath is thin in his chest, oxygen refusing to entirely fill his lungs. Last night stands out crystal clear. Stalking Shiro through the woods, pinning him down…doing things with him. Shiro's going to hate him. He's going to…He's going to…

Keith's panting, but he can't breathe. He needs to get out of this room. He needs to get outside, away from this. Keith pulls himself free, easing Shiro's head to the mattress as gently as his shaking hands will allow. The blankets lift as he stumbles out bed, revealing long red claw marks running down Shiro's outer thighs and hips.

Keith bolts.

...

The werewolf, Keith, he knows it's him despite the changed form in the way one always knows things in dreams, is ready to go again. Cock hardening proudly while Shiro's is still recovering. He steps forward to where Shiro is sprawled among the bedding, and it doesn't take words to know what he wants.

A rational part of his brain says he should be scared. A monster stands above him ready to tear him limb from limb, but the larger part of him asks why not. This can't exist, so why not enjoy it. Touch and feel the strong muscles and the delicious cock.

Shiro climbs to his knees and his mouth waters. Keith's dick is big, bigger than his own, and it feeds all those dark fantasies that good upstanding soldiers don't have. Shiro licks his lips and-Bang.

Shiro jumps, limbs kicking out, tangling and fighting. He throws himself free from the blankets and casts his eyes around for the danger. All is quiet around him. The room is unfamiliar, no it is familiar, but he hadn't thought it real. Shiro stands and his shoulder twinges. A slightly swollen bite stands out clear as day on his shoulder. It happened?

A quick overview of himself shows the truth. Sore jaw, smarting ass, and various assundry scratch marks, last night happened exactly how he's now remembering it. His hunter has a secret. A secret Shiro let have its way with him on the cold packed dirt of the forest floor, then a few more times in warmth of the shack. Thick muscles between his thighs, massive cock spilling over his skin…he…he liked it?

There should be disgust at the memories, a search for his sword to avenge his honor, but his biggest reaction is a twitching down south. He liked it. More than the fumblings with the other farm boy in the barn out of sight of their parents, or the quick and hard tumbles with another soldier on the eve of a battle that might be their last.

It's a revelation, as is the fact that he's entirely alone in the shack. Keith must have left him to sleep in while he went about his morning routine. Shiro should find him. They should talk.

His clothes are a lost cause, and Keith's won't fit. At one time he would have walked out of the shack in search of his hunter in nothing but his skin. More than happy to let the forest animals and Keith see him in all his naked glory, but those times had gone with his right hand. If he hadn't been so certain last night he was dreaming, he'd have objected to Keith seeing him unprepared. Shiro pulls a smaller blanket from the bedding, ignoring the stains they left last night, and ties it to cover as much of his chest and legs as possible.

He can't help noticing the dried cum on his stomach as he does so. Maybe he should look for some water to clean off with, before seeking out Keith. This conversation has enough potential for mortification as it is.

Stepping out into the fresh air, feels good. Sunlight warming his skin, as the dew wet breeze blows by. Shiro stretches out his stiffer muscles. He doesn't see Keith, but he can just hear past the chirping of early morning birds to the babble of running water nearby. First stop then.

There is a well worn path from the shack heading in the direction of the sound. Shiro follows it and is quite pleased to here the noise grow. Until the woods part to reveal a small stream, the perfect size for a bath. He's so pleased, he almost misses hunched body on it's bank.

Keith is naked on his knees. Fingers dug into the dirt, and head hanging between his arms. He'd said he was ill yesterday, was there more truth to that than last night would imply?

Shiro approaches, crunching leaves beneath his feet, but Keith makes no signs of noticing him. Slowly Shiro kneels down, reaching out a hand, "Keith?" Keith head snaps up, arm flitting between them defensively. His eyes wide in panic.

Shiro pulls his hand back, holds it up palms out, in the universal sign of I mean no harm, "Hey, woah, it's just me," Shiro says, and curses internally as the obvious occurs to him. Keith might have come out here to avoid him. A creature of magic, a soldier in his lord's service, there weren't many fairy tales where the two interacted peacefully.

"Shiro?" Keith's voice is pitched far too high, as he quickly stumbles to his feet.

Shiro follows much more slowly, hands still in front of him, "Yep, its me," Shiro puts on a wry grin, trying to calm Keith down with normalcy, "I thought I'd take a bath…got a bit messy last night." Keith's eyes grow impossibly wider, and for a second he looks tensed to run.

Shiro readies himself to catch Keith. He can't let Keith run from his life thinking that Shiro might hurt him, "I'm sorry." Keith says.

Shiro blinks, "What?" Shiro asks, caught off guard.

"I'm sorry," Keith repeats, fists clenching and unclenching as he ducks his head, "I'm sorry. I so sorry. I…I didn't mean to." The tremor is back, and Shiro is momentarily left speechless.

Keith didn't mean to? Did mean to what, "You didn't mean to sleep with me?" Shiro says hollowly. Of course not, they were friends, but there was a difference between friends and someone you were interested in. Shiro wasn't what he once was, and it seems now he is a mistake.

"No! I mean yes, no, I mean no," Keith growls, rubbing hard at his face, "I mean yes, I wanted to, but not like that. And that wasn't what I was apologizing for,"

Relief blooms in his stomach, not a mistake, "Then what are your sorry about?" Shiro asks.

Keith's eyes train onto Shiro's shoulder, and Shiro glances down at the reddened flesh, "For that," Keith says, "I'm sorry Shiro, you don't deserve this curse,"

"Oh," right, those bitten by a werewolf are doomed to become one themselves. That's what stories said. He's going to change, just like Keith had, under every full moon. He'll have to lock himself away to protect others, or venture out into the wilderness. Like Keith's shack…would he be just as interested when Shiro changed as well? Would he be willing to repeat last night?

"Shiro," Keith's voice is coated in fear and worry.

Shiro should be panicking, worried to pieces on how this will limit his future, but he's fought in a war, lost an arm, and now he's found someone he likes, "Can I spend the full moons out here with you?" Shiro asks.

"…yes?" Keith says, confusion overtaking his panic.

"Then there is nothing to be sorry for," Shiro smiles.

It's time he got to enjoy himself.


End file.
